


DPS Drabbles

by orphan_account



Category: Dead Poets Society (1989)
Genre: (again! it's brief!), (i went off in ch 2 ok?), (it's brief!), Aromantic Character, Asexual Character, Bad Poetry, Cooking, F/F, Gender Dysphoria, Hijinks & Shenanigans, M/M, Meeks Has Two Moms, Multi, Nonbinary Character, Ok I'll be updating these as i go obvi, Other, Pitts Learning To Love Herself, Queerplatonic Relationships, Shark Season, Swearing, The Perks of Being a Wallflower AU, Trans Character, Trans Female Character, Transphobia, guys you have to understand this is going to be very gay, that time of the month, they/them pronouns
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-24 17:54:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21103574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Basically these are DPS fics I wrote that are either unfinished or too short for me to post alone.Chapter One: Neil but he's America's next MasterChefChapter Two: Meeks and Pitts but they're trans girls and they're in a QPRChapter Three: Neil but they're AFAB nonbinary and it's that time of the monthChapter Four: Todd but he's Charlie from The Perks Of Being A Wallflower





	1. Neil but he's America's next MasterChef

**Author's Note:**

> OK. So. Whilst I try to think of some new ideas for the Neil Perry Is Not Okay series (which BTW if y'all have ideas/prompts/requests/etc. feel free), here! Have some abandoned WIPs!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically I wrote this because I was really into the idea of Neil and cooking, but then I didn't know where to take it sooo here's the concept? Featuring Charlie being a stubborn idiot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: uhhh Charlie goes on hunger strike cuz he's dumb

Charlie had always been one to complain about eating Hellton's 'so-called food'. Everyone was used to it. So, when he finally announced he was going on strike until the food's quality improved, Neil wasn't all that surprised. He tried talking Charlie out of it, obviously, but Charlie insisted that this was something he had to do. 

No matter how many times Neil tried to persuade him, ("Charlie, strikes don't really work if only one person is participating" "No, Charlie, I'm not going to join your strike" "Charlie, you can't eat nothing but vending machine chips and candy bars for the rest of the year") it seemed he was persistent. So really, Neil was left with no other choice. It took almost two weeks to perfect, but eventually they were ready.

It was Cameron who answered the door, immediately eyeing the tray in Neil's hand. 

"Want one?" Neil offered. 

Cameron grabbed a cookie, hesitantly taking a bite. His eyes widened. "Holy shit Neil, where did you get these?" 

Neil grinned a bit. "Made 'em." 

"You did not."

"Yep. Is Charlie here?"

"Where else would I be?" Came the reply from inside the dorm. Charlie walked towards the doorway, snorting when he saw what was going on. "Cookies, Neil? Really?" 

"Try one."

Charlie rolled his eyes but obliged. "Jesus, who sent you these?"

"I made them."

Charlie chuckled. "Right. Was it your mom?"

"I baked them myself. Used the Welton kitchen and everything."

"No way."

"I did!" Neil exclaimed. "Why is it so surprising I made cookies?"

"This kind of came out of nowhere." Cameron piped up.

Neil turned to him. "Well if Welton isn't feeding Nuwanda, someone's got to."

Charlie paused. "Wait, is this because of the fucking strike? Oh my God, I told you I'm fine."

Neil frowned. "Well Mr. Stubborn, now you're fine AND you have cookies." He sat the tray down on their desk. "Tell me when you run out."

"I don't need you to bake me cookies."

"Then I won't." Neil shrugged.

Charlie shot him a questioning look. 

"Charlie, if you don't want me making you more cookies, I won't."

Charlie nodded, still skeptical. "Well, thank you anyway." 

"Hey, Neil?" Cameron said. "If you do happen to make more-"

Neil nodded, smiling. "I'll do my best. Bye." 

True to his word, Charlie and Cameron did not get another delivery of cookies. They did, however, receive deviled eggs, salad, PB&Js, tacos, rice, burgers, pies, cupcakes, and at one point, lasagna. Where Neil was finding the time or money to do this remained a mystery.

Finally, about a month in, Charlie denounced his hunger strike. This was done on the condition that Neil would still occasionally cook for the Dead Poets, who at this point were starting to give Neil requests on what to try next. 

The hidden chef rumors somehow spread across campus. Neil suddenly found himself surrounded by students (and a few faculty members) desperately trying to bribe him with homework answers, cash, and ridiculous amounts of compliments. ("Wow Neil, that tie looks really good on you!" "Did you use extra hair gel today?" "That chemistry essay was something else, Perry! Say, have you ever cooked grilled chicken before?")

Once word spread to Nolan, Neil was told he was no longer allowed in the kitchen due to it 'distracting students from more important activities'. Everyone was, of course, devastated until Pitts suggested they start a 'Dead Baker's Society' next, which luckily sparked Neil's interest.


	2. Meeks and Pitts but they're trans girls and they're in a QPR

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically: they're both trans girls, they're both aromantic, and they're in a queerplatonic relationship. To be honest I wrote this for a friend from my school bc they rlly wanted me to but I think it's sweet so it's getting posted.
> 
> (Also!! I'm AFAB nonbinary and asexual. My experience HAS differed from the ones I wrote about in this chapter, so if you feel like something is inaccurate PLEASE let me know!! The last thing I want is to be offensive without meaning to.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: there's some transphobia that's briefly mentioned/implied, dysphoria, and negative self-talk

Meeks got to begin transitioning very early. When she decided to come out, her moms were very sweet and very supportive. Mom took her shopping for a new wardrobe, Ma showed her to style her hair. There's maybe four or five people in the world who remember a time before Stephanie. 

At the age of 12, the hair she spent so long growing out gets chopped off in favor of a bob. She starts dressing in striped t-shirts and jean jackets, and requests to go by Meeks. 

In the privacy of their bedroom, her Ma confesses she thinks Stephanie made a mistake transitioning. Rather, they made a mistake letting her. Her Mom insists she's likely butch, and they'll see her with some hyper-feminine girlfriend in a few days.

They're both wrong. Meeks just happens to love jean jackets.

And then she discovers she's an aromantic asexual. She's never felt more alone in her life.

Then, she meets Martha Pitts. Who goes by Pitts. She doesn't fall in love, not in the traditional way, but she falls in like and discovers that's much, much better. 

She's never fallen asleep next to someone before. Now, she shares a room with someone who watches movies with her, and dances to music with her, and kisses her on the cheek and the forehead, and she feels treasured.

One day, while some indie music Meeks doesn't care much for plays in the background, she opens a conversation with, "I'm trans, you know."

Pitts looks up, smiles, and says, "Same."  
And that's that.

~~~

Pitts can't really pinpoint when she realized she was a girl. It was a bit like dancing. You start off unsteady and uncertain. By the end of things, you're spinning too fast for your head to keep up but it feels so good you don't bother caring.

All she knows is she came to the conclusion eventually. She tells a few friends, who are nice about it. She waits a very, very long time to tell her family. Somehow, by some miracle, she gathers up the courage.

Her dad, bless him, blinks owlishly at her and asks if this means she's going to quit the boy scouts.  
Her older brother calls her a word she doesn't want to repeat.  
Her younger siblings ask if they can play dress up with her.  
Her mother never even picked up the phone when Pitts tried calling.  
She thinks she hates herself.

She takes towels and covers up the mirrors in her room. She refuses to take photos with people. Showering is the worst of all. She holds her head up the whole time, not caring how much it's straining her neck. Water runs up and down her body, and she tries to ignore the voice in her head screaming that this is WRONG WRONG WRONG.

She changes everything she can. Her room, her clothes, her personality. It's never enough. She still feels wrong. She begins dressing in sweaters and skirts and she grows her hair out until it's long enough to braid. She learns how to stuff a bra and hide an Adam's apple and make her voice higher-pitched.

Then, she chooses the name Martha from some baby-naming website. Most of her family uses the name, but the ones that don't are enough of a punch in the face that she decides not to tell her teachers. She can't stand hearing her deadname, but she's terrified to raise suspicion, so she ends up with the nickname Pitts.

She hates it for a very long time. Then, she switches schools and gains a group of friends that call her Pittsie specifically. She loves it.

Almost as much as she loves Meeks. 

Meeks, who is smart and pretty and handsome and funny and kind. Meeks, who falls asleep listening to The Beatles every night. Pitts knows that if she were ever to fall in love with someone, it would be Stephanie Meeks. However, she doesn't.

She explains this to Meeks, who introduces her to words like "asexual", "demisexual", "grey-asexual", and more. "And it doubles for romantic attraction too, Pittsie."

It's too many words. So Pitts just settles on, "Not really interested in dating. Maybe sex? Who knows? We're high schoolers, after all."

Pitts isn't one to use labels. The one she does use, however, is queerplatonic. It's quite possibly her favorite word in all of existence. Because it's her and Meeks. It's them. 

She adores the word. 

She adores Meeks.

And for the first time in a while, she adores herself.


	3. Neil but they're AFAB nonbinary and it's that time of the month

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this because I was projecting. That's literally it. That's the tea. But it was literally so short.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: well. It's that time of the month. So. Some mentions of blood, not much though.

The first sign it was going to be a bad day was the stomach. It was in AGONY. Neil rolled over, groggily trying to wake up their mind. They had eaten dinner, they were sure of it. Then why did their stomach feel like it was trying to kill them?

Neil yawned and sat up, pushing off the covers and standing up. That was when they noticed. 

"Shit." 

Of course. Of fucking course. They had a test today, they were supposed to play soccer in Keating's class today, but sure. Let's do this today. Thanks, body, you're a real keeper.

Huffing to themselves, Neil began the process of stripping their sheets, tossing them into an already-overflowing laundry basket. They were grabbing a new set of sheets when a voice rang through the room. 

"Neil?"

"Todd. Hey." They turned to face their boyfriend, who was brushing his extremely messy hair away from his face. 

"What are you doing?"

"Just. Changin' the sheets."

"Um. Why?"

Neil grabbed a box of pads and waved them.

"That time of the month?" Todd asked.

They groaned in reply.

Todd came up behind them and rubbed their shoulders. "Maybe after classes are done we can have a chill night. Watch a movie and cuddle?"

Neil smiled a bit. "You know me so well."


	4. Todd but he's Charlie from The Perks Of Being A Wallflower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OK I'm v angry w myself bc I've been trying for months to actually finish this but I just! Cannot! Anywho it's a Perks AU. I had many plans. Todd was gonna be Charlie. Charlie was Patrick. Neil was Sam. I was so obsessed with the concept. But alas. This is all I have to show for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Todd's parents are kind of dicks?

I am sitting perfectly still,  
The picture of petrified,  
But every atom in me is moving,  
Fighting to escape what awaits me tomorrow.  
So much more than a new school.  
A new chance.  
A chance at what?  
Humiliation?  
Disappearing?  
Or a chance at something more?  
Something that grips at the mind like

"Bullshit," Todd mutters, tearing the page out of the notebook and ripping it. He sighs, a part of him thinking this will be why he flunks out of Welton within the first week. He's heard the horror stories. Jeffrey adores telling them. His parents adore hearing them.

Todd would adore being able to fall asleep right now. They've got a long drive tomorrow, and he's sitting at a high-quality desk set, and he despises it. Jeffrey wrote letters when he was at Welton, but Todd doubts his would even be opened. Even if they were, what the hell would he write? 

Dear mom and dad,   
I'm struggling with the assignments they've already assigned. I'll pass, of course, I can handle it, but I hope you're not expecting my brother's grades. On the bright side, no teachers have called on me yet!   
Complicatedly yours,  
Your son (no, the other one)

Christ, even Todd's thought process is dominated by Jeffrey Anderson. Typical. He looks at the shredded remains of his writing. So much for pain making art, then. 

He turns off the light before he ends up waking someone.

~~~

"For God's sake, Charles, sit down!"

Todd's never seen a vein popping like this. Dr. Hager is truly a talent. He supposes this guy must be too, considering this is the second time this week he's caused Hager to freak like this.

"Just throwing this away, sir. And it's Charlie."

"Charles, I will not take another disrup-"

"Sir, you can either call me Charlie, or nothing."

"Alright, Nothing. See me after class."

Well, Todd thinks, at least he knows someone's name now.

~~~

"Oh Captain, my Captain. Does anyone know where that comes from?"

Todd's scribbles turn into Walt Whitman's name in his notebook, followed by some of the poem's lines. The teachers at Balincrest scolded Todd at first, but eventually learned he was still listening, and didn't care enough to stop him. Todd's hoping this will be the same, because if he's not looking at something, people are going to start talking to him and he is NOT in the mood today.

Mr. Keating's walking back and forth, and Todd hardly notices. Keating pauses behind Todd, looking at the answer.

"It's a poem by Walt Whitman, about Mr. Abraham Lincoln."

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr is considerablecolors if you'd like to stop by!


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